


Purple Hellfire

by MoonShoesReyes



Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Am I tagging right?, Mild Language, Post Season 2 of Jessica Jones, Post Season 3 of Daredevil, Post-Episode: s01e08 The Defenders, Post-Episode: s02e13 AKA Playland, Post-Season/Series 02, Post-Season/Series 03, are we friends?, but like, definitely not, its jessica so duh, no, they definitely are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2020-05-12 12:25:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19229116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonShoesReyes/pseuds/MoonShoesReyes
Summary: Matt Murdock and Jessica Jones are kindred spirits. They understand each other. Now, if only they could admit it.





	1. Allies

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to this short little fic I'm writing! Lets hope these two doofs figure out how to be friends.  
> I started this two weeks ago, before Season 3 of JJ came out, but only was inspired to finish it when the new season came out, because I kept saying to myself - ooh, is matt murdock gonna show?! anyways, everything is planned out, but i still have to write it. this kinda works as a one shot, but im planning at least 3 more chapters. 
> 
> enjoy!

            Jessica Jones was actively fighting the powerful impulse to jump out of a window. Not in some dark, macabre, self-pitying bullshit, but out of sheer boredom. Fuck, she was so claustrophobic these days. It didn’t help that her apartment was still a shithole, and now she didn’t even have Malcolm to help clean it up. He was just one of the many people she’d lost lately. She stopped that train of thought before it really started, taking a long sip of her coffee. Her client didn’t need to know that it was mostly whiskey. Wasn’t their business anyways.

            Fuck, she should be paying attention to her client. But, it was just another cheating husband case. That’s really the only kind she’d been taking. Easier that way. And usually the wronged parties were rich.

            And Louisa Whittaker was rich. That was easy enough to know based on her jewelry. All impeccably polished and exorbitantly priced, if Jessica had to guess. She couldn’t fathom spending money on something as unimportant as a chain, but to each their own. Oh, shit, she had finished talking.

            “Mrs. Whittaker, as I told you, if your husband is cheating on you I will get the proof. But before I do, you should know that the pictures can be hard to look at.” Jessica hoped she didn’t sound as monumentally disinterested as she felt.

            “I don’t care if it’s hard to look at, Ms. Jones. I just want the pictures so I can get what I’m owed out of the prenup, and then I never have to pretend to enjoy his company again.”

            “The more power to you. It’ll be the usual rate, and I require half upfront.”

            “That won’t be a problem. I’ll wire the money to you by the end of the day.”

            With that, Mrs. Whittaker stood up to leave. She grabbed her coat, adorned with some dead animal on the collar, putting it on with a grace that Jessica didn’t care enough to attempt. But Mrs. Whittaker stopped by the door, turning back to Jessica. Jess stood in response, arms crossed in front of her, eyebrows raised in challenge.

            Mrs. Whittaker looked Jess up and down, judging. “And, Ms. Jones, please, attempt to be sober when following my husband. I won’t let any potential suits get in the way of my 12 million.”

            And with that, she left, nose stuck in the air haughtily. Jess would’ve been mad, was a bit mad, but mostly she was just impressed with the lady’s balls.

            Releasing something that could be misinterpreted as a laugh, Jessica sat back down and pulled out her bourbon. She clicked out of a couple of emails from Claire and Colleen, unanswered, like usual, before getting back to work.

 

            Jessica got lost in her work, not just the newest in her line of cheaters, but some of the older stuff she had as well. Like looking for more IGH experiments, and alerting their families. That shit sucked.

            She was reading about a missing kid that she was pretty sure a victim of IGH, when she heard footsteps in the hall. It wasn’t Malcolm, the footsteps were wrong. Too much shuffling.

            And then she heard it. The faint but distinct tap of the cane, bullshitting its way through the performance of being blind.

            So, one of her ghosts finally decided to pay her a visit.

            Jessica knew that Matt was alive. She’d known for a while, even before his public reappearance, and before the Daredevil copycat. It wasn’t hard to figure out, with the mysterious beatings happening in Hell’s Kitchen again, and that attack on the church.

            But she had her own shit to deal with. And, if he wasn’t going to make his resurrection known to her, she sure as hell wasn’t going to find him. She had long since stopped waiting for his visit.

            He had finally reached her door, but he seemed to be hesitating. She could see his silhouette through the frosted window, and Jess couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

            “You in or you out, Murdock?” she called, barely raising her voice. She knew Matt had heard her just the same.

            Matt finally walked in, folding up his cane as he entered. His head was tilted, confused. But then again, Jessica had known him for half a week, and even she knew that this asshole always looks confused.

            “So, you finally decided to announce your resurrection. What do you need this time, Murdock? And I’ve got a full caseload, so if you could make it quick.” Jessica grit out, not looking up from her work.

            Matt puffed out air in what might have been a laugh, before answering, “You know, I didn’t expect any tears, but I must admit I anticipated some shock. Maybe some anger.”

            But that was the thing, Jessica was angry. She just had that anger locked away with all of the other annoying emotions that had been rising up ever since the day at the Ferris Wheel.

            Jess swallowed hard, pushing down the flash of anger that she felt. From the way Matt cocked his head, he hadn’t missed the spike in her heart rate.

            “I’m a PI, remember? I knew you were alive from the first attack at that laundry shop.”

            Matt smiled at her. To anyone else, it might have looked easy, relaxed. But Jessica knew that smile, the tightness of it. She did the same thing when she had to pretend she was okay.

            “Jessica, I…” Matt trailed off.

            “You what? Didn’t die? No shit.” Jessica sighed. “Look, we barely knew each other. I wasn’t crying, waiting for you to come home from war or any shit like that. Believe it or not, I had more important shit going on in my life. Still do. And I don’t have time for whatever you’re attempting to do.”

            “We work well together, you and I. And I know you’re not into the hero thing, but maybe we could work together a different way? Nelson and Murdock and Alias Investigations. Karen is good, but not a professional,” Matt trailed off, listening. He could hear her heart beat going faster as he spoke. “You are angry.”

            Matt could hear the strain on the wood of her desk as she gripped it when she stood. Jessica took a deep breath before speaking. “Don’t overestimate your importance, asshole. I’ve had my own shitty life to deal with, and I don’t have time for yours. Shockingly enough, you’re not the most significant resurrection I've dealt with this month. So, bite me, Murdock.”

            With that, Jessica jumped out of the open window. Matt crossed to it, sure he was going to hear the groan of her muscles and her bones when she hit the ground, but he didn’t. He didn’t hear anything of her, besides her fading heartbeat in the distance, coming from somewhere that didn’t make sense.

            Matt let his head fall against the window sill. How the hell was he not the only resurrection she had faced?

            Whatever she had been referring to, her heartbeat had remained steady. She had been telling the truth. And Matt had a long way to go if he wanted to form any kind of relationship with Jessica Jones.

 

~~~

 

            Stakeouts sucked. They were cramped, and cold, and only had a limited supply of alcohol. There were only so many times you could watch people go at it until it lost its charm. But, it was the job, and she was running low on alcohol and money. So, she was waiting.

            Her legs were hanging off the side of the roof she was perched on. She was leaning into her bag when she heard him approach. He most likely did some dumb flip that was completely unnecessary. She probably should have been more surprised about his sudden appearance, but, honestly, Jess could not find it in herself to care.

            “Jessica,” he started. She didn’t say anything, barely even acknowledged him. “Jessica, I’m sorry.”

            “I bet you are,” she said, sarcasm lacing her voice.

            “I am. I should have reached out, but I was out of it for a while, and then –”

            “Do not.” Jessica cut him off. “Don’t care.”

            Matt sighed, sitting down next to her, far enough away to assure that she felt comfortable.

            “I called Luke and Danny,” Matt tried again, searching for something to bridge the silence between them. “No answer.”

            “Yea, well, they had important shit, too. Our lives didn’t stop when you died. Danny is somewhere in Asia, or some shit like that, and, Luke… Well, you don’t want to talk to Luke right now.”

            Jess still wasn’t looking at Matt, instead keeping her eyes focused on the motel window, despite the fact that the curtains were closed.

            “How’s Trish?”

            This was obviously the wrong thing to say. Jessica’s heart rate spiked as she stood spit out, “Do not.”

            “Jessica, if you’re mad about Midland Circle, then I sincerely apologize. I thought I was doing –”

            “God, shut up, you egotistical piece of dicklint. Do you think I give a shit about you and your goddamned selfish martyr complex?”

            Matt, who had stood as well, took a step back. What he had done at Midland Circle was a lot of things, but none of them were selfish.

            “Selfish?”

            “Yes, Saint Matthew. Selfish. You didn’t do that shit for me, or Luke or Danny, or your precious city, or even for your psychotic ex. You did that for you. God, you and your fucking superhero complex bullshit. You died Matt. You died. And it sucked, and it happened, and it was my fault because I dropped the fucking elevator. But I could deal with that. A lot more people lived despite your fucking douchebaggery.”

            Jessica took a deep breath, and when she spoke again, it was barely a whisper. “But then you didn’t. You fucked with my head. you made me believe one thing, something I felt guilty for, and then it was all bullshit. And you don’t get to walk back into your life, into my life, like nothing fucking happened. Life went on, Devil Boy. But you fucked with mind. And people don’t get to do that. Not anymore. You are not my priority. I got bigger shit I'm dealing with. So, fuck off, and reevaluate your self-importance.”

            And without another word, Jessica jumped off the building. But Matt was ready for it this time – he could hear her, track the whistle of the wind against her leather jacket. He kept waiting for the fall, but it never came.

            Jessica Jones was flying.

            Granted, it was uneven, and he could hear her cursing through it the entire time, but she was flying.

            And Matt? Matt felt like he was sinking.

 

~~~

 

            Matt knew he shouldn’t be doing this. There was no doubt in his mind that he was going to do it, but damn it he shouldn’t be. He hadn’t seen Jessica in a few weeks – well, that wasn’t entirely true. Maybe once a week he would swing by her neighborhood, just to make sure she was doing okay. She never saw him, though.

            Matt had begun to notice that she was alone more than the normal person. Malcolm and Trish no longer hung around her apartment. Matt had been curious, but knew that Jessica didn’t want to see him.

            His mind was warring with itself as he knocked on Jessica’s door. He didn’t have his cane or glasses with him this time, instead pretending not to be blind on the street.

            He heard a drawer open and shut inside the office – Jessica putting away her booze, he assumed.

            Matt had to resist the urge to wring his hands as he heard the daunting, nearly threatening stomps of Jessica Jones.

            “Oh, for fucks sake, Murdock. What did I say?!”

            He could hear her muscles strain, ready to slam the door on his face, when he stopped her. “Jessica, please, I need you. My…” Matt faltered, the words feeling foreign in his mouth.

            “What? Spit it out, asshole.”

            “My mom is missing.”

            With that, Jessica’s jaw dropped, if only a bit. Her firm grip on the door loosened. Jessica stood there for a moment, still and shocked. She had looked into his life, knew that Matt had never known his mom.

            How the fuck did both of their mothers come back from the dead in the past few months?

            Uncharacteristically quiet, Jessica moved slightly, gesturing for Matt to come in.

            Matt exhaled, releasing tension he wasn’t aware that he was holding, before entering the office and collapsing into one of the chairs. Jess followed suit, pulling out the bottle of bourbon she had just hidden away, and pouring two glasses.

            Jessica was busying herself, trying to look at anything besides Murdock.

            When it became obvious that she wasn’t going to speak first, Matt started to explain.

            “She’s, uh, she’s a nun at St. Agnes. That’s the orphanage where I grew up after… everything happened. I didn’t know she was my mom. She didn’t want me to know, but I ended up back at the orphanage after Midland Circle. I was in and out of consciousness for weeks – she took care of me, I guess. I overheard her. She was praying, talking to my dad. The people I had trusted the most, who had raised me, had been lying to me. She knew I was out there, and didn’t do anything, she never tried to find me.”

            “I know what that’s like,” Jess muttered into her cup. Matt looked up at her words, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

            Matt continued to puzzle over Jess for a moment, until she gestured for him to continue. Matt cleared his throat, and went on.

            “We were supposed to meet today; I try to meet with her once a week or so. But she wasn’t at the church, today. None of the other nuns had seen her. Something’s wrong, Jess. I can feel it. I need your help – I can pay! Not much, but I can get you as much as I can –”

            “Slow down, Devil Boy,” Matt tensed at the nickname, although he could tell that no one was around. “I'll help.”

            Matt nodded, relieved but still anxious. Fuck, Trish was so much better at this shit than she was. She froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. Finally, Jess stood from her seat and crossed to Matt. She crouched in front of him, but didn’t touch him.

            “Murdock, look at me. You’re freaking out. I’ll find her, Matt. It’s what I do.”

            Jess gave Matt a moment to collect himself, before continuing.

            “Now. Let’s go over what we know.”

 

 

~~~

            It wasn’t a case. Maggie had ended up on some nun’s cruise for a week. She hadn’t told Matt, because, well, she’s never had to before. Their relationship was new, and she hadn’t even considered it.

            They hadn’t spoken since she had told him, but it had started things. Matt and Jessica weren’t friends, and he didn’t really understand why. But he knew he could count on her.

            Which is why he made the likely foolish decision that resulted in him squatting on Jessica’s fire escape with a bottle of Wild Turkey Bourbon, waiting for her to get out of the shower.

            He wasn’t in the suit, not tonight. He was dressed casually, with the black mask covering his eyes. Just in case anyone decided to look up.

            Matt wasn’t sure why he wanted to connect with Jessica. She was right, they barely knew each other. He had enjoyed their time working together before Midland Circle collapsed, but he enjoys working with a lot of people. He supposed that there was something to be said about the company of someone who wouldn’t constantly question and belittle his choice to wear the suit.

            Well, she would certainly make fun of the suit, but never from a place of not wanting him to wear it. She just enjoyed needling him.

            Jess noticed him immediately as she walked towards her desk. All she could do was sigh, but she made no move to kick Murdock out, which he took as an invitation.

            “I brought you this,” he said, lamely extending the hand with the bourbon, “as a thank you.”

            Jessica considered it for a moment, before grabbing it. “You still need to pay me.”

            Matt huffed out a laugh, sitting on the shitty couch in her office. She grabbed two glasses from the shelf by her desk, and then moved to sit next to him. She kept a healthy and careful distance between the two of them, as she poured their glasses.

            They remained like that for a while, sitting next to each other in silence, drinking until the bottle was low. There was something intimate in the simplicity of it. Something vulnerable about just being with someone else, no expectations or responsibilities. It was like they were stripped of the day to day minutiae, and for a moment were allowed to just be.

            Matt was content to leave at that. He knew that even this was a luxury that many people were not afforded when it came to Jessica Jones, which is why he was surprised when she started talking, her gaze steadfastly pointed towards her liquor, and not him.

            “My mom is,” she huffed out a laugh that was void of humor, and Matt could feel her head shake slightly. “My mother was alive.” She took another long drink of the bourbon, despite the fact that it did little to actually get her drunk.

            “You looked into me. You know she was supposedly killed with my brother and dad in the car accident.”

            Matt nodded, unsure if she even noticed. Other than that, he remained extremely still, as though any movement would startle her, and she’d stop speaking.

            And he didn’t want her to stop speaking. Whatever she was telling him, this was the thing that had been so visibly weighing on her shoulders.

            “Well, it turns out, not so much. She’d been experimented on. Like me. And she had powers, like me. But more – she was stronger, faster. And we helped some people. We did. But she was,” Jessica paused, knitting her eyebrows.

            She poured another glass before continuing.

            “She was angrier. The experiment had changed her, she wasn’t able to control it. And she had hurt people. But she was still my mom – you know? And I helped, I could help her control it. And I was. I was helping her. Until…”

             “Until?” Matt pressed quietly. Not forcing her to speak, but helping her to continue, knowing the burden it would lift.

            “Until Trish shot her.”

            Matt’s eyebrows raised. Whatever he had been expecting, that was not it.

            “That’s…” Awful, unfathomable, horrible, excruciating. He didn’t know how to finish the sentence. “I’m so sorry, Jess.”

            She just shrugged. “It is what it is.”

            “I’m sorry that you had to go through that alone.” She nodded, and he could hear the tears welling in her eyes. He quickly calculated the benefits versus the risks, and ultimately decided to tentatively reach out and grab her knee.

            After a few moments of silence, as she pulled herself together and Matt patiently let her, he spoke again. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t have any plans for dying in the immediate future. Next time someone returns from the dead, give me a call.”

            Jessica exhaled in something that might have been a laugh, which he took as encouragement.

            “Or, if you ever need backup. Or a drinking partner. I’m there, Jessica.”

            Jessica nodded again. She remained quiet while pouring more bourbon into both cups. “Yea, well, if you ever think you’re in a situation where you might die again, give me a call so I can kill you myself, first.”

            Matt smiled, “will do.” That was the closest he would get to an offer of aid from Jessica. But it was enough.

            So, they continued to drink, mostly in silence, but occasionally swapping jabs and anecdotes. Matt felt an unusual swell of pride on the rare chance he could make her laugh.

            And it was the beginning of something that Matt didn’t quite understand yet. But he was glad that he had Jessica Jones as an ally.


	2. Partners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo heyyyyyy  
> yea its been a while. I've been writing this for a while, and I do still have plans for the second two chapters. I just graduated college and moved across the country and got a big girl job, so writing had to go on the backburner. Anyways, i hope you enjoy!

            Jessica Jones was both lucky and cursed to have intelligent people in her life. There were times, like when she was out with Matt or Luke, when she was grateful that they were smart and patient and experienced. Usually, however, the gratitude stemmed from time with Colleen. And Danny was rarely any of those things, but the others were. And that meant that Jess didn’t have to step up, she didn’t have to lead, she didn’t have to make the life or death calls.

            But then there were the occasions that got her into those situations to begin with. Claire and Colleen had started meeting with Jess before Matt was back, and while Danny and Luke were still AWOL.

            The two women had realized that there was no universe where they were going to get Jessica to attend a “team meeting.” So they moved the meetings to her apartment. And didn’t tell her when they were going to show up. Those assholes knew that if she heard about whatever they were dealing with she wasn’t going to be able to turn her back on it.

And then Danny and Luke came back. And then Matt.

            So Jess found herself unwillingly, but surely, a part of a team.  Not that she’d ever admit it.

            And, although she’d fight anyone who’d repeat it, she didn’t hate it.

            It didn’t suck to have people she could count on. She even appreciated Colleen sometimes. Colleen seemed to be just as content to drink in silence as Jess. And, despite herself, Jess liked Claire. She took no shit, and she got the rest of the idiots in line. Especially Danny, thank God.

            Matt sometimes joined the silent drinking sessions between Jess and Colleen. His presence wasn’t unwelcome, but it shifted something in the atmosphere. Something that Jess had no interest in deciphering.

            She would never forget the moment that Claire found out Matt was alive. Never before had Jess seen such a rapid succession of so many emotions. She got a unique and perverse joy from Claire’s reaction – and Matt’s inability to handle it.

            But for some reason, Jess felt like she and Matt were similarly isolated from the others. There was some kinship between them that she didn’t understand and refused to act upon. For some reason, it made the meetings with the others more bearable.

            She supposed that was why she went to him with her Trish Problem. Well, that and the fact that he already knew what Trish had done, not to mention that Matt owed her.

            Normally, Jess wouldn’t have cared. Normally, Jess would slam the door on Dorothy’s face and not lose any sleep over it.

            But the situation wasn’t normal, at least according to Dorothy.

            Trish had powers. Vague, nebulous, undefined powers, but powers nonetheless.

            Fuck IGH, for still messing with her life, decades after the accident. And fuck Trish, for being jealous of Jess’s powers. And fuck herself, for doing so goddamned little with her powers that Trish felt the need to get her own.

            Fuck the entire situation.

            But Jess knew herself. She knew how easily this case could turn into a night at a bar, and how that could turn into a morning in a stranger’s bed. And, no matter what her feelings about Trish were, she still needed to help her. Stop her, before her delusions of heroism mixed with her skewed moral compass and her conviction that she’s always right resulted in something dangerous.

            So, she went to Matt. Choir Boy would make sure that Jess was on the straight and narrow, and maybe keep her in line.

            She didn’t call him, despite the fact that she knew it was an option.

            Besides, he wasn’t hard to find. For someone so religious, he tended to spend a lot of time at that shitty bar. He was with his friend when she got there, the sappy one who is always making Matt feel bad about his night time choice. The one who is both Matt’s Trish, and the exact opposite of Trish.

            Jess didn’t feel like feigning politeness, so she used what she knows to get Nelson to leave. And, it’s Jess, so she knows a lot. One quick call to the bar, and Foggy was gone.

            She wasn’t sure how long Matt had known she was there by the time she sat down. Whether he knew before or after Foggy left, he didn’t let on. All she knew was that there was a glass of Wild Turkey waiting for her when she finally decided to join him. She didn’t say anything, instead downing the entire thing in one swig.

            “So, Marcy was feeling frisky, huh?” Matt asked. So he did know. There was half a smirk on his face, and his tie was loose around his neck – he was relaxed. Jess was not. She didn’t like asking for favors.

            At her silence and blatant discomfort, Matt continued.

            “You could have joined us, you know. Foggy wouldn’t have minded. He likes thinking I have friends outside of him.”

            Jess fixed him with a glare strong enough that she was sure he could feel it.

            “Is that what we are? Friends?” Matt wasn’t sure how to answer that. He would like to think they’re friends, but that’s not really Jess’s style or wheelhouse. Figuring there was no right answer to the question, Matt instead opted to flag Josie down and order another round for the both of them.

            Turned out, despite her best efforts, Matt did know a few things about Jess. He knew that there was no world where he could rush her into saying whatever she came here to say, so instead he waited for her to speak whenever she got around to feeling ready. They drank in silence for almost twenty minutes before she finally spoke.

            “How’s your mom?” Jess said, evading something she hadn’t even started.

            “How’s Trish?” He bit back, not missing a beat. He’d expected, or hoped, that this would break her tension. Any other day, she would be fighting a smile at his brazenness. But not today. Jess remained silent for a moment too long.

            “I need your help, Murdock.” She finally managed, eyes steadfastly focused on the glass in her hand.

            Matt, to his credit, didn’t hesitate. “Done. What can I do?”

            Jess met his eyes, incredulous, “Really, no questions before agreeing?”

            “I told you Jess, I’m in your corner.”

            “Boxing metaphor, of course.” Jess said, rolling her eyes in an attempt to hide her gratitude.

            “Start at the beginning, Jones, next round’s on me.” Matt said, reaching out in the way he knew she’d respond to: alcohol.

            It was something, the trust. He could work with that.

 

            Matt and Jess worked the problem. He wasn’t a bad detective, not that she would ever tell him that. It wasn’t like before, with his mom, where he sat back while she did the work. 

            They worked in tandem, leaning into each others strengths, and trusting each other enough not to need to ask questions. It was effortless in a way that Jess hadn’t experienced before - not with Trish, or Hogarth, or Malcolm. They were similar in ways that allowed them to act without the need for explanation, and different enough that they were never redundant. 

            If Jess were a better person she’d want to make this permanent. They could do a lot of good if they were to try. But that wasn’t her and it wasn’t him. They didn’t know how to work with others, not long term. And both had similar views on their own self-worth - they believed the other could do better.

            So, they enjoyed the case that they had, working quickly and efficiently, stopping occasionally to breathe, a luxury neither had ever really indulged in before.

            Trish hadn’t made it hard for them to track her, leaving a trail of witnesses and injuries in her wake.

            Much to Jess’s displeasure, she had quickly realized that they were tracking IGH. Or, rather, Trish was tracking IGH, and Jess and Matt were cleaning up Trish’s mess.  

            Despite the amount she had already shared with Matt, Jess wasn’t eager to detail what she endured at their hands when she was a kid, or more recently.

            But something was off with Trish’s most recent “lead.” Jess had spent enough time studying IGH (not “obsessing,” as Malcolm used to say) to see past the obvious answer of IGH. 

            Matt and Jess had entered a warehouse a few hours after Matt finished work. Well, they had met up at a bar first, drinking in silence for a few hours. They were a few weeks into tracking Trish, and were far from uncomfortable around one another - at least in this setting. Neither was too concerned about the search, as they were both confident that IGH had abandoned the location as soon as Trish had left. From Jess’s research, Trish had hit the warehouse a few days before. There had been reports of Patsy Walker leaving the building, bruised and bloody. 

            There was something different about this location; they both sensed it immediately.

            To Matt, he noted the lack of antiseptic and dozens of different blood types that he had smelled at all of the other locations. In its place was something old, and musty, and unnervingly familiar.

            For Jess, it was the dirt. When IGH cleaned out, they took everything. Every piece of equipment, every document, gone. This place, though, it was a mess. Random shit thrown everywhere. Nothing organized or methodical.

            After a few minutes of each using their own methods of investigation, Jess finally spoke.

            “It’s different. This isn’t IGH. There’s too much here. Plus, she got hurt. Trish hasn’t gotten hurt yet. IGH is doctors and nerds in white coats - this was different. These people were trained to fight.”

            At her words, Matt’s blood ran cold. Suddenly, he knew what he recognized the smell from. Any mirth from his hours with Jess was instantly snuffed out. Matt felt hollow, the weight of his mission descending on his shoulders with a force that could crush him.

            “You’re right. It’s not IGH. We should go.” Matt needed her far away from this - she already saw too much.

            Jessica eyed him suspiciously. “Really, Murdock? You want to leave the suspicious warehouse without answers?”

            “You want to find Trish? She’s not here anymore. Best to move to her next location.” Matt began to usher her out, but Jess planted herself, not moving.

            “What’s going on, Devil Boy?”

            “It… It reminds me of something. But it’s gone. They’re gone. There is no way. It just…. took me by surprise. What I do know is that Trish was here, and she was injured. But there’s something else here, too. I think there were drugs being stashed here - I can smell cocaine and methamphetamines.”

            Of fucking course drugs were involved. Of course Trish would have relapsed. “Fuck. Fuck, Murdock! We need to find her now.”

            With that, Jess tore out of the abandoned building. But she wasn’t going towards her apartment, or his apartment.  Instead, Jess was headed towards the unmistakable stench of a homeless man who was set up across from the warehouse. Matt could barely catch the words she was spitting at the man, she was talking so fast and so low. 

            Matt stood back, not planning on intervening unless Jessica got violent. He listened keenly, trying to decipher whether the man was lying or just terrified of Jessica.

            “She was here!” He gasped out, “beat up real bad. She collapsed over there.” Matt heard the man gesture, and focused on smelling the residual blood.

            “True,” Matt murmured quietly enough so it was only for Jess. He could hear her hair move against the back of her jacket as she turned to look at him, and the muscles in her neck as she inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement and thanks.

            Matt smiled slightly, despite himself.

            “What else.” 

            “I don’t know, man! She was fucked up. I think she was on something - the people in that building had some weird shit. She got up after a bit and took off.”

            “Did she say anything? Did you talk to her?”

            “Nah, lady, I didn’t leave my corner!”

            But his heart rate spiked. “Lie,” Matt said.

            Jess gripped him by the collar, hauling him out of the blanket he was wrapped in.

            “What happened,” Jess gritted as she pushed the man into the wall, so he was looking over her head, and she was cutting off airflow.

            “Jesus - you’re one of them, ain’t ya! Fucking freaks.” Matt heard Jess tighten her hold. Her heart was beating too fast. There was something happening to her, something Matt hadn’t seen yet. 

The homeless man continued. “Fine, I took her wallet while she was passed out!”

            “And?”

            “And that’s it! She had a shit ton of needles on her. Other shit too, but I don’t fuck with drugs.”

            “What a role model.” Jess bit out, dropping him. She gave him no time to recover before sticking out her hand. 

            “The fuck you want now? I don’t have any money.”

            “The wallet, dipshit. Give me her wallet.”

            “Fucking supers,” the man muttered as he dug through his stuff, before finding the wallet and throwing it at her.

            Jess caught the wallet, clutching it against her chest. She was too angry. She needed to calm down, regain control. 

            Fuck.

            Once she turned the corner, vaguely aware of Matt trailing behind her. When she was sure the asshole who had robbed Trish could no longer see her, she rested her head against the cool brick.

            “Main Street. Birch Street. Higgins Drive. Cobalt Lane. Main Street. Birch Street...”

            Soon she had regained enough control to be pissed that Murdock had likely experienced her minor panic attack with her. That would surely color his opinion of her. 

            So Jess ignored it. She relaxed her shoulders and unclenched her grip on the wallet, and turned to Matt.

            He looked like a fucking puppy. Worry was painted all over his face, and he was half heartedly stepping towards her like he could fix her.

            “So,” Jess started, all business, flipping through the wallet and finding a motel business card. “Trish is staying at some shitty, by the hour motel uptown. And it looks like she relapsed.”

“Jess,” Matt started, unsure how to finish. Not that Jess gave him the chance to.

            “I need to get her to a rehab place capable of handling someone with powers. Not that we even fucking know what her powers are, which is a problem. I’m sure I’ll figure it out quickly when I find her. But I’m going alone.” She turned to walk away.

            “Jess, slow down.”

            “And I know you’re gonna do some heroic bullshit about not going alone, but you died alone so you don’t really have the high ground here. Plus, this is a family matter.”

            “Jessica, stop!” Matt came the closest to yelling that Jess had yet experienced.

            “What,” she asked dryly, turning to face him fully.

            “What was that?”

            “A panic attack. I figured you of all people would know what they look like. Any more questions about my private shit, Counselor?”

            “I mean, come on, Jess. I’ve never seen you like that!”

            “What, you spend a few days working with me and you read my file and you think you know me? You don’t know shit, Murdock, don’t presume you do. It just makes you look like an ass. I need to go help Trish, we’ll figure out the deal with the warehouse later.”

            And then she left. Just walked off into the night. And Matt just stood there, mouth hanging open like an idiot. He’d fucked that one up.

 

            Almost 24 hours later, Jess went to find Matt after she finished everything with Trish. Fucking cat powers? What is that? 

            Whatever. Trish was safely in rehab, and Jess was fucking exhausted. She didn’t do apologies, but she did alcohol, which was why she was at Murdock’s door at 1am with a bottle of Wild Turkey. She might be sorry, but she was still gonna enjoy her drink.

            But the apartment was empty when she arrived. Matt hadn’t planned on going out tonight, he had told her earlier. 

            When she got inside the apartment, she quickly found that the suit was missing. Because he’s a fucking dipshit.

            So, Jess downed half of the bottle of whiskey in one go, and got to work.

 

            Matt had absolutely no regrets about not telling Jessica about the Hand’s return. Not one. The Hand had already hurt too many people he cared about. I mean, maybe he shouldn’t have run back to the people who had all but killed him with no back up, but what’s he supposed to do about it now? Plus, the Hand was all but decimated, this was some half-hearted offshoot. Skilled fighters, sure, but they were no Nobu. 

            And Jess had Trish to deal with. He had made the right choice. Or at least that’s what he told himself while the group he’d snuck up on kicked his ass. 

            And now he was tied up and blindfolded, which Matt found a bit redundant. Not that they knew that - they didn’t take off the mask. They didn’t care enough about his identity to take off the mask.

            He was almost out of his bindings when he heard her. Because of course she showed up, he shouldn’t have expected anything less.

            She ripped his blindfold off and made quick work of the rope around his wrists, before picking him up in a fireman’s carry and jumping out of the building, muttering as she tripped through the air.

            Her landing was far from graceful, instead pitching forward onto the roof, dropping Matt in the process.

            When the two of them finally got themselves off the ground, Jess wasted no time before swiftly punching Matt in the arm. At least it wasn’t the face; he had enough problems with clients and neighbors thinking he was being abused.

            “Fucking asshole! The fuck did you think you were doing, Murdock?”

            “Is Trish okay?” 

            “Fuck, Trish! We were supposed to be partners, asshole. You don’t get to go off like an idiot. And you lied. Who were those assholes?”

            Matt decompressed. The only way out of this was through.

            “The Hand,” Matt admitted.

            He had braced for the explosion. What he got instead was far, far worse. Jess got quiet. Quiet enough that, if he didn’t have super hearing, he would have thought she had left.

            “So you fucking walked into a building full of the people that killed you? On purpose?”

            “They didn’t --”

            “No you don’t get to talk. My turn. If we work together, I have to trust you. You don’t get to go head first into dangerous shit behind my back. You do not get to get yourself killed. You don’t lie. Understood?”

            “Understood.”

            “Good.” Jess released an exasperated sigh. 

            Matt decided to take a risk. “So, how is Trish?”

            “Rehab. She has catlike reflexes, I guess? Some bullshit like that, I don’t know. But she’s at a place where she can get help, and where she can’t hurt anyone.”

            “Good, I’m glad you found her.” Matt searched for something else to say, “I am sorry, Jess.”

            “As much as I dislike it, we’re in this together, Murdock.”

            Matt smiled to himself, taking off the mask. 

            “Partners?” He extended his hand, a grin on his face.

            “God, you don’t need to write a song about it,” Jess rolled her eyes, “Sure, partners. Whatever, asshole.”

            If he’d been a normal guy, with vision and regular hearing, he wouldn’t have known. But he could hear the lift of Jessica’s lips as she shook his hand. Not that she’d ever admit it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come wig with me on tumblr! @donkey-is-my-spirit-animal is my main, talk about errything (a lot of marvel). @moonshoesreyes is my the 100. @arya-of-house-stank is my GoT (rip that show and its quality).  
> Hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Freak out with me on tumblr @donkey-is-my-spirit-animal  
> or if you like the 100 @MoonShoesReyes  
> or if you like GoT @arya-of-house-stank  
> idk how sideblogs work so whoops


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